


Hogwarts: A Bleached History

by TheGreenFaery



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenFaery/pseuds/TheGreenFaery
Summary: Absolutely inspired by Polynya's Broomsticks and Bankai. Please read her stuff; she's awesome.Mostly me just having fun with our favourite idiots.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 21





	1. The Sorting Ceremony

It was the Sorting Ceremony, and whilst she knew that all it entailed was putting on the Sorting Hat and the name of your chosen house being called out, Saito Hisana was _nervous_. As in she was absolutely bricking it. She felt sick and her hands were clammy as they clutched desperately to the hem of her skirt. It was a good job she was sitting down.

A comforting hand rested on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” Miyako reassured her.

“But what if-,” Hisana whimpered.

“It’s going to be _fine_.” Miyako smiled soothingly and took hold of her hand.

The doors to the Great Hall lurched open, creaking and groaning and the first years were called through, all wide-eyed and slightly dazed. One lad had evidently fallen into the lake. He was absolutely sopping wet and squelching his way down the line. His peers were trying their best to stay as far away as was polite, but the stench still carried. Not that it seemed to bother him. In fact, he appeared to be thrilled that he’d had a close encounter with the giant squid and he was sporting a particularly lumpy looking toad draped in pondweed as some sort of crown. Hisana noted that the toad, poor creature, did not look nearly as impressed.

One by one, the students were summoned, but Hisana barely noticed. There was only one name that she needed to hear. Finally her name was called. She stumbled forward towards the stool, nearly tripping over her too-long robes. Hisana was on tenterhooks with bated breath, her silent plea echoing through her mind. _Please be Ravenclaw, please._ She crossed her fingers. If she was placed in Gryffindor, she’d be with Renji, although Hisana wasn’t so sure that would necessarily be a good thing. Hufflepuff would be okay. It would be safe. _Please be Ravenclaw. Please not-_

“SLYTHERIN!” Rukia had barely put it to her head when the Sorting Hat’s voice echoed loudly through the hall. Hisana slumped in her seat, her head falling soundly to the table.

Nanao pushed her glasses smartly up her nose, nudging Hisana with her foot from the opposite bench. “Cheer up. At least she’s got Kuchiki to keep her in check.”

Hisana looked up at her, wholly unconvinced and whispered shakily, “We’re all going to die.” Miyako struggled to keep her sniggering in check behind her hand.

Hisana turned to face her sister, smiling wanly and giving her a half-hearted wave. Rukia, for her part, looked pleased as punch, and Professor Shihōin seemed to be appraising her in a manner that caused Hisana no small amount of concern.

She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a handful of coins, before placing them squarely on the table. “Three galleons says I’ll have gone grey by Christmas.”

Nanao considered this for a moment before retorting decidedly, “Four says she’ll have blown up the boys’ dormitory by October.”

Miyako was cackling mercilessly before adding to the pile. “ _TEN_ says she’ll have done all of the above, caused a blizzard in the school, _and_ given Kuchiki a mental breakdown by Easter.”

Hisana turned back to her sister who gleefully gave her a thumbs up. The elder Saito gulped and opened her mouth wordlessly, before simply pushing the pile of money towards Miyako. “I think you might be right.”


	2. The Other Saito Girl pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cameos from OCs brazenly and shamelessly stolen from Polynya. I'm sorry, they're just entrenched in my own headcannon now.
> 
> Remember: Kuchiki Byakuya isn’t stupid.

Kuchiki Byakuya hadn’t been holding out much hope for this year’s intake of new Slytherins. Shihōin Yūshirō was a given, but he was so besotted with his elder sister, Slytherin’s head of house and Transfiguration teacher, Shihōin Yoruichi, that the boy was clearly deprived of all sense and reason. There was his own cousin, of course, Kuchiki Choei, but again, he was hardly deserving of the title of pureblood, no matter how powerful a wizard he turned out to be.

The first new addition to the house was Haida Kyōko, a slender girl with a clean cut bob and blunt fringe with an interesting aura about her. She had potential, but Byakuya had a sneaking suspicion that he’d have to keep an eye on her lest she fell into somewhat darker practices. Next came a blue-haired boy called Jaegarjaquez Grimmjow who seemed to have the personality of a rogue manticore. He was soon followed by the delinquent Choei. Between the two of them, Byakuya was sure he could say goodbye to any chance of peace and quiet in the common room.

Then there was the Hatstall. A ginger-haired boy by the name of Kurosaki Ichigo, who spent an agonising twelve minutes sat there, his face increasingly red, whether with embarrassment or anger or both, it was hard to tell. Thankfully, he was sent to Gryffindor. Byakuya wasn’t sure he could cope with any more aberrant hotheads than he already had to deal with, much less those that could confuse the Sorting Hat.

The subsequent students were sorted swiftly and without incident when one name rang through the air, grabbing his attention in particular. _Saito Rukia_. Lo and behold, there she was. A mirror image in perfect miniature (not that the original was particularly big to begin with), with huge eyes and skinny legs. She’d barely taken the Hat into her hands when it sent her straight to Slytherin.

Well, then.

Things were starting to look up.

Regrettably, her sister was evidently _devastated_. So much so, Byakuya almost felt like spinning the tiny first year round and sending her back to the Ravenclaws. Almost. He wasn’t _stupid_. He wasn’t going to give up a good thing when he found it.

He glanced over to see Saito Hisana looking back to his own table.

The prefect gave a brief nod to the beaming newcomer, and it was decided. If he was wrong, he’d eat the Sorting Hat. This adorable, perfect, little creature called Saito Rukia was most certainly a good thing.

Hisana was looking back again. It was possible she even looked his way. Her two friends had. Definitely.

He glimpsed back at Rukia. She was gesturing enthusiastically to a second year in Gryffindor. Abarai, maybe? Whatever his name was, he was noisy and obnoxious and had absolutely no sense of decorum. Not to worry. She was young and he would be able to imprint upon her the class and refinement that absolutely defined the noble Slytherin house.

Yes.

Saito Rukia was a good thing, indeed.


	3. Mini-Mes and Mini Minas

“Hisanaaaaaaaaaa!” Matsumoto Rangiku’s dulcet tones rang through the Great Hall as students settled down to Sunday breakfast. “Is this your sister? She’s so cute!” Rukia suddenly found herself crushed between a pair of excessively large breasts. “Anyway, guess what?”

“Err…?” Hisana barely had time to think before Rangiku enlightened her anyway.

“I’ve got one too!”

Nanao looked perplexed. “What? Sister?”

“No, no, nooo.” She suddenly presented them with the bewildered first year she’d dragged across the hall, “A Mini-Me!” She turned back to Rukia, “This is Inoue Orihime and the two of you are going to be best friends, I just know it!” Orihime gave a tentative wave while Rukia just stood there, apparently in some kind of trance.

Her hand lifted slowly, reaching before her as she mumbled, “Are they even _real_?” Hisana seeing what was about to happen had the sense to swat her sister’s hand down, hissing her name and gesturing her head sharply towards the other first year.

Startled out of her stupor, Rukia cottoned on quick, although Hisana nearly died when she took on the persona of some excessively girlish Regency maiden, complete with a ridiculous sing-song voice and curtsey. “Wha-? Oh! Ohh, Inoue-san. Honoured to make your acquaintance! My name is Saito Rukia.”

What made the whole thing worse was when Mini-Matsumoto seemed completely happy to go along with it and replied in kind.

Rangiku squealed with delight, clapping, before flicking her long strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder and declaring, “Anyhoo, must dash, darlings. You know how it is; things to see, people to do, boys to snog… Look after Orihime for me, she’s a real peach. Byyye!” And with that, the Gryffindor whirlwind fifth year that was Matsumoto Rangiku was gone, leaving Orihime blinking owlishly in her wake.

“You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like, Orihime,” Miyako said kindly. The young girl glanced back hesitantly to her own house table, and her own friends who were watching the spectacle, curious. “Your friends, too. They can come over.”

“It’s not that. It’s just… Mashiro was going to teach us how to play gobstones, and-,”

Rukia’s interest was instantly piqued. “Gobstones?”

Orihime didn’t seem to know what it was either, so Nanao chipped in, “Like muggle marbles, only the stones spurt out stinky, gunky stuff when someone loses a point.”

At the words ‘stinky, gunky stuff’ Rukia’s eyes widened, “Cooooool! Can I come?” Before Hisana could even blink, the two youngsters had linked arms and were off, chattering like old friends.

“Err, she does realise tha-,” Miyako started cautiously before Hisana cut her off.

“Shh. Do not ruin this moment. This was the moment that Rukia _almost_ interacted with another human being like a _normal child_. Do not ruin this for me.”

“All I was going to say is that she should probably be made aware just how terribly _uncool_ gobstones is. The last thing she needs is the rest of Slytherin catching on to this. They’ll rip her to shreds.”

Hisana faced her friend squarely and solemnly. “Miyako. What on earth makes you think she’s gone over there to learn to _play gobstones_? She’s gone over there to learn how to utilise them as a weapon.” Both Miyako and Nanao scoffed at her. “Trust me, if no one wakes up covered in gobstone gloop next week, it will be a miracle.”

The others fell quiet as a massive shadow loomed over them, accompanied by a low humming. Hisana couldn’t jump out of her seat quick enough as she spun round to excitedly greet one of her favourite teachers with what _could_ have been a crushing hug. If she was eight foot taller and approximately thirty stone heavier. As it was, she barely reached his waist and her spindly arms were lost against his huge midriff. “Professor Komamura!”

From the way he suddenly stopped and began looking for the source of the sound, it was obvious that the giant lycanthrope couldn’t even feel Hisana clinging to him. Thankfully, he realised what was happening before he flattened her.

“Ho-hmmm? Ahh, yes. Hisana-san.” He raised his head and scratched at his neck with an enormous paw. “Hmmm, yes. You might want to come down to the hut. There’s something you should see, hmmm.”

Hisana stepped back, concerned. “Oh?” She took one look at his inscrutable face as he peered down at her. “It’s not Mina, is it?” She sorely hoped not. Not after all they did to save her, the poor thing.

Something flashed in his eyes as he replied, “Lo-hmmm, I think you’d best see for yourself. Yes, hum.” He started fishing through his many pockets, one of which was apparently housing a couple of live ferrets that suddenly popped out and wound themselves around his neck like a very excitable scarf. Finally, he pulled out a large set of keys, the biggest of which was the size of Hisana’s forearm. “I shall, hummm, see you down there.”

Professor Komamura continued plodding on down towards the teachers’ breakfast table for his morning mountain of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages. Hisana, on the other hand, couldn’t move quickly enough as she fumbled with the mass of keys, forgetting about both her friends and breakfast.

Nanao sighed and muttered quietly to Miyako, “Remind me how it is that she has no qualms about cuddling a giant beast-man, but is absolutely terrified of Professor Unohana.”

Miyako shrugged. “Who knows what goes on in that girl’s mind?”

“Good morning, ladies. Looking beautiful as usual…” A spiky haired, Gryffindor prefect had sidled up between the two and wrapped his arms around their shoulders, attempting to rest his head on Miyako’s like an overly-affectionate hound.

Miyako rolled her eyes. “Oh joy. It’s you.” She shared a sideways look with Nanao and the pair immediately got up to leave.

“What? Miyako! You can’t leave me!” The girls completely ignored him.

“Hate to break it to you, Shiba, but apparently she can.”

He scowled at the Gryffindor Head Girl as he pilfered the abandoned toast from Miyako’s plate. “Shut up, Lisa. No one asked you.”

By the time Hisana reached Komamura’s hut, she was out of breath and her arms were beginning to ache under the weight of the keys. She cheered somewhat at the sight of the nifflers and knarls in their pens, however.

As she pushed the rickety door open, she wasn’t sure what she would find. She wasn’t, however, expecting to see what she did.

In a relatively large, cushioned dog bed lay the crup that she had found in a terrible state during a Hogsmeade trip in her fourth year. Mina had had a nasty case of mange, and what fur remained was matted and blooded from where she had scratched herself raw. She’d been suffering from gastroenteritis, and was generally in an absolute mess. Hisana had spent months nursing the little dog back to full health. Despite the occasional recurrent bout of stomach upsets, when school had broken up for summer six weeks earlier, she had been doing really well. She’d gained weight, her fur had fully regrown, and she was full of typical terrier mischief, her forked tail wagging constantly. The thought that something had gone wrong was heart-breaking.

An indescribable squeaky noise escaped Hisana as she took in what was before her.

Yes, Mina was laying in her bed looking exhausted, but she also had the biggest grin on her scruffy face. Alongside her lay six wrinkly, wriggling puppies, all of whom were suckling merrily on their mother’s laden teats.

Hisana’s voice was soft and breathy as she settled down next to her and gently tickled her favourite spot just below her ears, “Oh, Mina, you clever girl!” The crup tiredly but affectionately licked and snuffled Hisana’s hand before returning her attention to her pups. “Just wait until you meet Rukia. She’s going to love you. And these little monsters.” With any luck, these darling balls of cuteness would be enough to distract her sister from causing _too_ much trouble. Then again, they could also be instrumental in helping her create it.

Oh well.

She’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

For now, she was entranced by the wonderful scene and nothing could take that away from her.


	4. The Other Saito Girl pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering what Hogwarts house I am in, and why updates can take so long, let it be known that I have spent an inordinate amount of time in the past week formulating time tables for every single class, student, and teacher to make sure that it is logistically possible for people to be where I say they are. They are colour-coded. 
> 
> You're welcome.

When Kuchiki Byakuya told himself that Saito Rukia was a good thing, he truly believed it. When he vowed that he would eat the Sorting Hat if she wasn’t, he meant it. He really thought things were looking up.

But that was yesterday.

Today? Today he felt like donning the Sorting Hat and claiming it as his own for all to see.

Saito Rukia wasn’t a good thing. She was a heaven-sent miracle. She was courteous. She paid attention. Her manners were impeccable. She addressed him properly, calling him _Kuchiki-sama_. She had introduced herself to other students in a wholly appropriate fashion. She had even curtseyed! She was absolutely delightful.

Not that he expected anything less, of course. She was related to Hisana. Hisana who was currently… hugging Professor Komamura?

Naturally, she was a very affectionate person. And she had a weakness for animals. But he couldn’t help worry that maybe she was much too… close and about to be crushed.

He exhaled slowly as Komamura realised his student was underfoot. And now he was handing her his keys. A true mark of an exemplary student and human being, to be trusted so implicitly by a professor. The Slytherin prefect did his best to quell the disappointment that marked Hisana’s rushed exit from the hall, and instead focused his gaze back on her younger sister.

Byakuya would have been alarmed as he watched her punch Abarai Renji in the back, but reassured himself that he probably very much deserved it (he was, after all, an uncouth ruffian) and she was merely defending her pride and honour.

Unfortunately, his enjoyment of Sunday breakfast was brought to a swift end as his classmate made his presence very much known as he took a seat beside him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. What’s this Kuchiki? You’ve failed with the original, so you’re taking up the younger model instead? I never would have thought you were so fickle.” Ichimaru Gin’s fox-like grin was, as usual, etched upon his face. Byakuya remained silent as Gin’s taunts needled and jibed. He had long learned that reacting in any way, shape or form _did not go well_. And no one needed a reminder of the duelling club fiasco from his third year. “I suppose this means that the rest of us are free to score now, though, right?” Gin reached across Byakuya to the apples to the right of him, despite there being a much more convenient bowl directly in front of his own seat. “Ahh, now wouldn’t that be a sweet tasting victory? Stealing the Forbidden Fruit from right under his Lordship’s nose…”

“Don’t you have any first years to terrorise?” Byakuya snapped.

“My, my, now that’s a scary look. You’ll never seduce anyone with a face like that.” Gin’s leering smile broadened as Byakuya glared even harder at him. Gin took a large bite of his apple whilst pouring himself a glass of orange juice. “As for first years… If you’re terrorising them this early on, you’re doing it wrong. You have to help them settle in, find their feet, prove yourself to be a trustworthy, helpful individual, and _then_ the games can begin. Look at Kira… we’ve come so far.” Byakuya watched as Gin gave a mocking wave to the second year Hufflepuff across the way. The second year Hufflepuff who instantly paled and looked stuck in the awful quandary of wondering whether to faint with joy, cry or be sick. Possibly all three at once.

Byakuya heaved a sigh and pinched his nose. “You’re a bastard, you know.”

Gin laughed and patted Byakuya’s head condescendingly. “Don’t worry, I don’t pick on little girls. You’re safe.”

And that’s enough for today.

“Aww, don’t tell me you’ve finished already!” As luck would have it, Byakuya _had_ finished, and he had no intention of staying any longer than he absolutely had to.

Rukia was having fun. Not only had she managed to infiltrate the Gryffindor common room thanks to her new friends, but she was also annoying her old friend, Renji, _and_ had somehow managed to ‘accidentally’ make him swallow a number of gobstones and it was hilarious. For everyone bar Renji, who had since turned a putrid shade of yellow and was hiccupping a foul smelling liquid every three minutes or so.

As it turns out, Gryffindor was a lot more… _rambunctious_ than Slytherin, something that Renji was keen to keep reminding her. “I can’t believe you’re in _Slytherin_. And you’re happy about it. What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, stop moaning. It just means I don’t have to spend all of my time surrounded by _complete_ idiots.”

“But they’re _boring_ idiots. Or mean idiots. Or both! It’s full of stuffy pureblood nobles.”

The corners or Rukia’s mouth upturned in a slowly growing smirk. “You mean Slytherin’s full of _rich idiots_.”

“No, I mean… err…” You could both see and hear the cogs turning in Renji’s brain, followed by the echoing clang as the proverbial penny dropped. The expression on his face soon matching that on Rukia’s.

“Oi, Kuchiki,” Professor Shihōin had found him on his return from the library, “do me a favour and hand these out.” She passed him a pile of timetables.

He looked down at them, “Isn’t Aizen meant to do this?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why? Are you busy?”

“Well, no,” he conceded, “but-.”

“But what?” She crossed her arms and cocked her head at him, both in silent challenge and scrutiny. “Look, Kuchiki, I thought you’d appreciate the excuse to see certain fellow students, but seeing as this isn’t the case, if you could direct me to the Head Boy, I’d be much obliged.”

He tried to appear nonchalant, he really did, but there was no missing the faint blush that settled upon his cheeks. Especially not for one as observant as Slytherin’s head of house. “It’s fine.”

She smirked. “That’s what I thought.” Before he had a chance to respond, she had vanished in a wisp of smoke.

He flicked through to find his own timetable.

Oh no.

They’d done it again.

And this time both were on the _same day_.

Surely he wasn’t _that_ transparent?

Surely _they_ weren’t that cruel?

Who was he kidding? Of course they were. They’d made a career out of tormenting him.

Oh, this was terrible.

He needed a plan.

But first things first; he needed to hand these godforsaken things out.

Another hour and Renji’s complexion had returned to normal, and Rukia had returned to her own common room. (And, no, she didn’t get lost, she merely took the scenic route, thank you very much.)

She was just about to go upstairs to her dormitory when she was collared by the fifth year prefect, Kuchiki Byakuya. He was handing out timetables, something that she was genuinely excited to see as Hisana had always been annoyingly tight-lipped about the things they learned at Hogwarts. Rukia didn’t even get the chance to look through her textbooks because she’d never brought them home. It wasn’t so much that Hisana didn’t trust her, rather, their home had some very funny ideas about witchcraft and wizardry.

Neither she nor Hisana had been allowed to visit Diagon Alley when they’d received their letters. Instead, they had been issued with second hand books and equipment. Even their wands! Although Hisana had since managed to buy her very own when on a Hogsmeade trip.

So imagine the shock when Rukia looked at her piece of parchment and saw that at three o’ clock in the afternoon she had _flying lessons_. “Like… on _broomsticks_?!” She was agog.

“I can’t believe your sister didn’t tell you.” Byakuya was surprised. Although, when he thought about it, he couldn’t remember Hisana ever attending flying lessons. Not that he really took any notice of her until third year.

“Pfft. She never tells me anything.” Rukia was poring over a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Byakuya said, frowning.

Rukia glanced at him over the top of the book. “What makes you say that?”

He was glad that she was distracted by the book because he really couldn’t answer that. It’s not like he _knew_ Hisana. They’d sat next to each other once in astronomy in their second year. They’d shared a pair of secateurs in herbology a few times. She’d given him a spare quill when Gin had managed to completely disintegrate his own in charms last year.

Whatever her reasons, he was sure that she had a good one for not telling Rukia about quidditch, although the thought of life without it was simply incomprehensible to him. Still, if Rukia was this interested, maybe, just maybe, her sister might start to take notice too.


	5. Hook

Monday morning found Rukia sprinting down to the Great Hall, skidding to a halt only when she reached her sister.

“’Sanaaa,” she whined, “Why didn’t you tell me I’d have _flying_ lessons?” Rukia flapped her timetable in Hisana’s face.

Hisana barely looked up from her Daily Prophet. “Did I not? Fancy that,” she muttered. When she did look up, she partly wished she hadn’t. “Rukia, have you even brushed your hair?” She immediately started fussing over her younger sister’s uniform, as Rukia tried to swat her hand away.

“Never mind that… Flying! _Quidditch_.” Rukia flapped her arms for dramatic effect.

“Breakfast! _Hair_ ,” Hisana countered, fishing a brush from her bag, “Come on; sit down.”

As Rukia complied and Hisana began working on plaiting her hair, she looked over her sister’s shoulder to see what other lessons she had. “Oooh, herbology first thing. That’s with Professor Ukitake. You remember him? The one who came to see you when you got your letter.”

“The man with the white hair?” Rukia looked up at the teacher’s table. “He was nice.”

“Yes, he is, so _you_ be nice to _him_.” Rukia nodded her assent as Hisana finished tying the end of her braid and put the brush back in her bag.

A hand suddenly started ruffling Rukia’s head, “Mornin’, Trouble!”

Hisana gave a strangled noise in exasperation, “Kaien!”

“Wha-? Oh. Sorry,” he said sheepishly as Rukia giggled and Hisana started all over again. “Where’s Miyako?”

“Hiding from you, probably,” Hisana grumbled.

Kaien clutched a hand to his chest. “You wound me, Saito.” He moved his attention back to Rukia. “By the way, nice number on Abarai yesterday. Gobstones, eh? Who’d’ve thunk it?” Rukia grinned mischievously at him as he took a seat next to her.

“What? Wait. No. I don’t want to know.” She sighed as Rukia turned her head. “Stop moving! It’s gone all wonky again.”

“Who cares? It’s going to get all blown about in flying lessons anyway.”

Hisana grimaced. “Yeah, can we not talk about them, please? I’ve just had breakfast.”

Rukia pouted sulkily, “You’re no fun.”

“That’s me. Just your boring old fart of a sister. Anyway, I’ve got something to show you. You’re free at eleven, aren’t you?”

“Err… it says ‘General Studies’, whatever that is.”

“That’s fine. You can pretty much do what you want, as long as it contributes to your learning.”

“What’s this? A Ravenclaw condoning skiving off?” Kaien butted in cheekily, mouth full of toast.

“Oh, shush, Kaien. It’s not skiving if it’s educational. And this is _very_ educational.”

“What’s this? It sounds interesting.”

“Ise!” Kaien looked around excitedly before faltering. “Where’s Miyako?”

“Hiding from you,” Nanao said bluntly as Hisana looked at him pointedly and Rukia sat there sniggering, Kaien aghast. “So what’s educational?”

“I’m taking Rukia down to meet Professor Komamura.”

Both Nanao and Kaien looked very much like they wanted to say something to the effect that they thought that was a bad idea, but decided better of it. Hisana was weirdly protective of the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, who she insisted was a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear where everyone else saw as a terrifying mountain of feral canine intimidation. But she was also convinced that Professor Unohana was a total psychopath, so it wasn’t entirely clear that her judgement could be trusted.

It was only the sound of someone clearing their throat that broke the slightly awkward silence (albeit one that both Saito sisters were unaware of), only to create an even worse one. Standing there, looking as haughty as ever was Kuchiki Byakuya, boring holes into the back of a certain someone’s head.

A certain someone who was as oblivious as ever as she returned to her paper and sipped at her tea, finally satisfied with her sister’s hair.

He cleared his throat again.

“Hey, Nanao. Have you seen thi- Ow!” Hisana looked up sharply as she received a kick to the shin. “What was that for?” Nanao looked over the top of her glasses in a subtle gesture. “What? Oh. Err… Hi?”

Byakuya quickly averted his eyes and instinctively did his utmost to look as uninterested as possible as he held a slip of parchment in her general direction. “This is yours.” He felt rather than saw Kaien facepalm to the side of him, which was a bit rich considering what a total disaster _he_ was. Byakuya also didn’t appreciate Saito-the-Younger looking at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“Oh? Oh, thank you. I _had_ already copied it from…” Hisana trailed off meekly at Byakuya’s stern frown. “Thank you, Kuchiki-sama. Sorry for bothering you.” She gave him an unsure smile before turning to Nanao, eyes wide with the silent plea of _‘HELP ME!_ ’

Thankfully, Miyako came to the rescue, although her eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Kaien hunched over. “What’s _he_ doing here?”

“Miyako! Toast?” Kaien sheepishly held out a plate for her, wincing as she rounded on him.

“Sure it won’t make me _fat_?” She glared at him

“Now, come on, I didn’t say that-.”

Both Hisana and Nanao were so used to their bickering that the pair had simply rolled their eyes, sighed, and tuned them out. Byakuya was seriously deliberating seeing this train wreck play out, but ultimately decided he’d much rather leave with all of his appendages still attached. Unfortunately, Kaien had other ideas.

“Isn’t that right, Kuchiki?”

Whatever it was Shiba had just said, Byakuya highly doubted it _was_ right. So he did what he did best and shot him a filthy, condescending look.

“Hang on, why are you dragging _me_ into this?!” Hisana’s shrill voice pierced the air. “And why would _he_ have any opinion on the matter?”

Kaien looked genuinely baffled. “What do you mean why would he-?” Oi! Kuchiki, help me out here! You like ‘em small, don’t you?”

Byakuya wasn’t _entirely_ sure to what Shiba Kaien was referring, but judging by the looks on the girls’ faces he could take a pretty good guess. Rukia was gawking at him. Nanao had frozen, spoonful of porridge halfway to her open mouth. Miyako was… well, he wasn’t _entirely_ sure how to describe the expression on her face. Either way, it wasn’t good. And Hisana, his poor, sweet, little Hisana, sort of deflated before taking a long, deep breath, and slowly and deliberately folding up the newspaper and setting it aside.

“Can I kill him?” she asked a very unimpressed Miyako.

“Get in line, Saito. I get first dibs.”

Kaien was getting more and more flustered. “It was a compliment!” He was beginning to wither under the weight of their stares. “I mean, look… Nanao. You’re not my type, but even I can see you’ve got that sexy schoolmarm thing going on.”

The glint from Nanao’s glasses seemed to add to her hawk-like gaze.

Rukia whispered something to her sister, who pondered for a few seconds. “Yeah, go on then.”

The four girls got up to leave, but before Kaien could protest he’d received a sharp jab to the ribs from Rukia’s elbow and she’d shoved something into his open mouth.

By the time they had reached the Entrance Hall, Kaien had developed a jaundiced pallor and had his hand over his mouth as though about to be sick.

Kaien hauled himself to his feet and attempted to lean on Byakuya as a support. “I deserved that, didn’t I?”

Byakuya exhaled with all the patience of a man who was sorely tested. “Yes. Yes you did.”


	6. Line

When Hisana had described Herbology to her, Rukia had envisaged a calming affair. A sedate and soothing balm to the madness they called Hogwarts. She was expecting it to be boring (her sister did, after all, have very different ideas of what constituted as ‘fun’). She was most certainly not expecting this. Although, to be fair, she didn’t think Professor Ukitake expected this either.

She’d had an insight the day before as to the calibre of Gryffindor students, but she hadn’t really considered what would happen if they were to be in the same confined space as other members of her own house.

It was utter _chaos_.

Thirty-five minutes in, and Professor Ukitake had had to repair the same pane of glass four times thanks to the antics of Kurosaki Ichigo, Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, and Kuchiki Choei (henceforth known to Rukia as Dipshit, Dimwad, and Dingbat respectively).

It was difficult to tell what exactly had started it, but somehow Dingbat Kuchiki had managed to knock a bucket of Bouncing Bulbs off of a shelf overhead. As the name might suggest, Bouncing Bulbs are a particularly _lively_ species unless restrained. One especially exuberant plant had ricocheted from the floor and hit the orange-haired Dipshit square in the face. He was now sporting a lovely black eye. Obviously, he’d immediately assumed it was the blue-haired Dimwad’s doing and had retaliated by shoving a bulb down the back of his robes.

Whilst the rest of the class had taken shelter under the potting benches, and despite their teacher’s protestations, both Dipshit and Dimwad were now engaged in all-out Bouncing Bulb war, with Dingbat shouting out ‘helpful’ suggestions as he sat there with the aforementioned bucket on his head as a helmet.

To make matters worse, the Fanged Geraniums in glasshouse two had picked up on the battle cries from within their lesson. They’d grown increasingly fractious, before finally launching their own attack upon several trays of unsuspecting Chinese Chomping Cabbage seedlings. Thankfully, there were a couple of seventh years passing by who didn’t mind losing a few fingers that were able to help mollify the situation.

Rukia couldn’t help thinking that if this was Herbology, it was no wonder Professor Ukitake’s hair had turned completely white at such a young age.

Rukia spent the first hour of her General Studies session being the target of seventh year recruiters for any number of extra-curricular clubs. So many, in fact, the choice was almost overwhelming, and she was fairly certain that the weight of their many leaflets was now greater than all of her school books combined. She was really quite relieved when eleven o’ clock rolled around and she had an excuse to escape.

“What. On. Earth?” Hisana was waiting for her in the Entrance Hall. “I thought you had Herbology first?

Rukia’s hands went immediately to her hair. It was… about as neat and tidy as glasshouse three when she left it. “Don’t blame me! Blame the idiots who were throwing Bouncing Bulbs at each other!”

Hisana looked horrified. “Throwing Bouncing Bulbs? But _why_?

Rukia shrugged at her, “Because they’re idiots.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they slowly meandered their way across the lawns and down towards the lake, only occasionally punctuated by Hisana pointing out key points of interest. Rukia was both curious and excited to note that they seemed to be heading _towards_ the Forbidden Forest, which seemed very unlike a Hisana place-to-be, and even less like a place she’d want Rukia to be.

Nevertheless, they continued on their path until eventually Hisana gestured to a wooden hut beyond the massive vegetable patches. Rukia inwardly groaned as she thought that the big reveal was going to be nothing more than some new variety of carrot, or something equally thrilling.

And then she saw the animal pens.

Her sister seemed almost buoyant the closer they got, her pace picking up to the extent that she was almost skipping. Suddenly she stopped.

“Rukia, before we go any further, I should explain. Professor Komamura, he’s…”

“The big hairy one?”

Hisana snorted, “Yes, he’s the big hairy one.” She seemed to be choosing her words very carefully. “I… He…” Rukia was looking up at her, eyebrows raised in anticipation. “Don’t look at his ears.”

“What?” Rukia had been expecting some kind of sob story, not an instruction that she now clearly could never follow.

“Don’t look at his ears.” Hisana then continued marching on.

It took Rukia a few seconds before she ran to catch her up. “Wait. Why? Is he-?”

“No.” She stopped again before turning to Rukia. “Look. The temptation is _real_.”

Rukia didn’t have a single clue what her sister was going on about, and her blank face plainly said so.

Hisana huffed, “You know… to…” Her hands moved to the side of her head as she imitated the movement whilst mouthing the word _‘scritches’_.

“ _Ohhh_ ,” Rukia nodded sagely as she let it sink in. “But why did you have to tell me that? Now I won’t be able to _not_ look at his ears.”

“I need someone else to share my pain. You seemed like a good candidate.”

“But that’s _mean_ ,” Rukia whined.

Hisana gave a tinkling laugh as she grabbed her sister’s hand and practically dragged her along the final stretch. “Come on! Come and meet Mina.”

By the time three o’ clock came, Rukia was on an absolute high. She’d played with puppies. She’d discovered Nifflers and Knarls and Kneazles. She’d been introduced to a couple of Jarveys who were being kept with what she now knew was a fesnyng of ferrets. She’d only been caught staring at Professor Komamura’s ears twice. Her sister was _cool_ (or, at least, her sister was a hell of a lot cooler than she’d previously thought). And now she had flying lessons.

She didn’t think the broomstick would be necessary.

Which was just as well, because when the class arrived at the quidditch pitch there were no broomsticks to be seen. Instead, the quidditch coach, Muguruma Kensei, stood there impatiently tapping his foot and tapping his watch.

When the final stragglers (unsurprisingly Dimwad and Dingbat) arrived, their teacher bellowed at them. “OI! YOU TWO. NAMES?”

Even Grimmjow had the sense to look sheepish as he mumbled his response.

“WHAT? SPEAK UP, BOY!” Muguruma was already walking away by the time they answered, but that didn’t stop him from catching a name of interest. “Kuchiki, eh?” He doubled back and loomed over Choei, sizing him up and down. He took the wooden bat that had been looped through his belt and began beating it slowly into his hand. “Don’t think that name’s gonna save you in this class, Boy.”

Choei gulped.

Muguruma turned his back on them. “YOU TWO ARE LATE. TWENTY-SEVEN SECONDS. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! TEN LAPS ROUND THE PITCH, STARTING NOW!”

The two boys looked at each other. They hesitated.

Coach Muguruma glanced back over his shoulder before saying in a low, menacing growl, “Did I stutter?”

The two set off before Choei had even finished squeaking.

“RIGHT, YOU MISERABLE LOT!” Muguruma barked, pacing up and down the line of first year Ravenclaws and Slytherins, “WELCOME TO FLYING LESSONS. IN THIS CLASS YOU WILL PLAY QUIDDITCH! YOU WILL LIVE QUIDDITCH! YOU WILL BREATHE QUIDDITCH! YOU WILL _BECOME_ QUIDDITCH!” He glared at his class, hands on hips, as though daring them to laugh. Rukia didn’t think even Gryffindors would be _that_ stupid. “ANY QUESTIONS?”

“Errm… just one,” a timid voice to the left of Rukia called out. Muguruma zoned in on it. “Where… where are the broomsticks?” It was a fair point, Rukia thought. How were they going to learn to fly on broomsticks _without the broomsticks_?

“Where are the-? WHAT’S YOUR NAME, BOY?” Muguruma had returned the bat to his belt, and crossed his arms across his chest.

The young lad squared his shoulders and stood as tall as possible, “Shihōin Yūshirō, Sir!” She thought the salute was a bit much, but Rukia had to give him points for braving the question.

Their coach grunted at the sound of his surname, clearly unimpressed. “Another noble,” he muttered under his breath. “Tell me, Shihōin, did you want to join your classmates over there?”

“I, umm… Did you want me to go over there?”

Muguruma narrowed his eyes. “Alright, let me ask you this. Have you earned the right to ride a broomstick?” Yūshirō blinked. “Do you _deserve_ to ride a broomstick?”

Cowed, Yūshirō replied in a very quiet voice, “No, Sir.”

“THAT’S RIGHT. YOU WILL GET A BROOMSTICK WHEN YOU HAVE EARNED A BROOMSTICK. YOU WILL GET TO _RIDE_ A BROOMSTICK WHEN YOU DESERVE TO RIDE A BROOMSTICK. AND WHO DECIDES WHEN THAT IS?”

“You do, Sir,” Yūshirō said.

“Correct.” Muguruma gave a brisk nod and resumed his pacing. “NOW, THE RULES. ONE: DO AS I SAY. TWO: DO IT WHEN I SAY. THREE-.”

Rukia couldn’t help herself. It erupted, quite unbidden, and it was all Renji’s fault. Renji and Mashiro all those other stupid Gryffindors. And now she was going to die.

“WHO SAID THAT?” There was no escaping it. Each of her classmates stepped away from her, leaving her to her brutal fate as their teacher swooped in on her. With his hand on her head, he forced her to look up at him. “NAME?”

“Err… Saito Rukia, Sir.”

He mumbled her name repeatedly as he tried to place it. “You muggleborn, Saito?”

She looked to the floor, embarrassed. “Yes, Sir.”

“You have a sister? Ravenclaw?”

She frowned, confused. “Yes.”

“ _You’re_ not scared of heights, are you?”

“Umm… no?”

He pursed his lips, brows furrowed as he considered his next move. “SAITO! OVER THERE!” He pointed to the door next to the changing rooms. “CHOOSE YOUR BROOM!” The rest of the class ogled at her. “THE REST OF YOU, LAPS UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN STOP. BUT FIRST, TAKE NOTE.” He brought a triumphant fist to his chest, a tear of joy in his eye and his voice hoarse with pride. “ _NEVER_ SKIP LEG DAY!”


	7. Sinker

When Shihōin Yoruichi had picked out her classroom at the start of her tenure, she had done so very carefully. She was based on the third floor of the North Tower. It was no coincidence that from the window closest to her desk, she had a perfect view of the quidditch pitch. This was absolutely essential for the former star Chaser of a number of international quidditch teams, most recently the all-female Holyhead Harpies.

In fact, it was her previous occupation that had first introduced her to quidditch coach Muguruma Kensei. He, in turn, had cajoled her into teaching when the Transfiguration post became vacant seventeen months after her retirement from the professional game. He’d assured her that he’d persuaded Headmaster Yamamoto to introduce a new quidditch training programme, as the previous one had left much to be desired. For her, becoming the head of Slytherin House was simply a bonus.

She knew just how tough a coach Muguruma was. He ran his classes like a military machine. So imagine her shock, when out of the corner of her eye, she saw a first year student on a broomstick in their _very first lesson_. Even her most prodigious students, fifth years Kuchiki Byakuya and Suì-Fēng, hadn’t made that achievement. It could (and often did) take weeks before Muguruma deemed a student fit to use a broom.

Her third years completely forgotten, Professor Shihōin trailed off mid-sentence recounting their previous years’ lessons, large, white fluffy rabbit tucked under her arm, and threw open the top drawer of her desk, grabbing the pair of binoculars shoved at the back.

She zeroed in on the quidditch pitch and gave a quiet but jubilant “Yessssssssssssss!” as she confirmed that the student was, indeed, one of her very own Slytherins. She practically flew to the door as she announced that class was dismissed.

This. Was. _Amazing_.

She was flying. She was actually flying. And more to the point, she was _good at it_.

There had been one point when the wind had picked up and threatened to knock her off of the broom, but she’d managed to circumvent disaster by spinning upside down and just going with the current rather than panicking and fighting it. It was epic. Everything just came to her instinctively, and so far Rukia had managed to catch _every single tennis ball_ that had been fired into the air at random from some rather convoluted contraption the Coach had brought out.

This meant that in her next lesson, Coach Muguruma was going to make her catch only the ones with faces drawn on, and not the ones with misshapen blobs. When the whistle blew, she really didn’t want to come down. Alas, Muguruma was one teacher that she really didn’t want to peeve, if only because she didn’t want to lose her broomstick rights.

When she landed, everything felt electric. Rukia’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with excitement, every fibre of her being was buzzing. Which was an awful lot more than could be said for the rest of her classmates who looked, for lack of a better word, _knackered_. It was possible that a couple of them were having flashbacks to ‘Nam. The Ravenclaws certainly didn’t look like they wanted to be back on the pitch for another gruelling two hours at nine o’ clock the next morning. Unfortunately (for Rukia, at least), the Slytherins weren’t back until Thursday afternoon. She would be counting down every last minute.

“SAITO!” Muguruma beckoned her over, “Good work, Kid. Listen, Shihōin wants to see you in her office as soon as, so dump your stuff and get moving.”

Her heart dropped, “Did she say what for?”

“Hnn?” He looked up at her from where he was wrestling the bludgers back into their case. (Apparently they were really good at getting lagging students running at full speed again.) Shrugging noncommittally, he said, “Only one way to find out.”

“Hai,” Rukia said listlessly. She felt somewhat lacklustre as she trudged over to the broom store. Was it the gobstones? Had Kaien really reported her for that? She bristled with indignation. He’d _deserved_ that. Surely it couldn’t be the Herbology fiasco. Had she accidentally left open one of the animal pens? Were there now nifflers running amok? ( _Now there’s a thought_ \- she stashed that for later use.)

As she made her way to the North Tower, she went through an endless list of possible reasons for the summons; each one more ridiculous than the last. Was it her _hair_? Is that why Hisana was so obsessed with it? Was Professor Shihōin actually a massive neat-freak who demanded a perfect appearance? Then she thought of sixth year Ōmaeda Marechiyo. Maybe not. Or maybe he was allowed because he was a noble and rich enough to have that aspect overlooked? Maybe that was it. Maybe she had actually been incorrectly sorted into Slytherin? She was, after all, lacking in all of the most basic of qualifications; be pureblooded, be noble, be rich. 

When she arrived at Professor Shihōin’s office, Rukia didn’t really know what to do with herself. On the one hand, she was sure she hadn’t done anything bad enough to warrant the head of house summoning her, on the other, why else would she be called?

The door swung open before she could even knock. “Good. You’re here. Get in.”

Professor Shihōin was a petite woman with a huge attitude. She was as intimidating as she was beautiful, with her dark skin and damson hair. She invoked an almost obsessive loyalty from those she believed in; her little brother, Yūshirō, and fifth-year prefect, Suì-Fēng, simply did not shut up about her. The only Slytherin Rukia had met so far who had any negative opinion of the woman was Kuchiki Byakuya, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he had a little obsession of his own. And it wasn’t quidditch.

“Biscuit?” She held out a plate of some bizarre cat and fish shaped snacks, clearly homemade and decorated by a student. Rukia shook her head, slightly in awe at her teacher’s presence. “No, I wouldn’t either,” she said before promptly tipping them in the bin.

Professor Shihōin perched cross-legged on her desk, chin resting on her hand as she scrutinised Rukia, who stood there nervously attempting to flatten her hair. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t!” Rukia frowned, muttering to herself, “I mean, I did. But he deserved it!” Her hands had balled into little fists.

Shihōin stared at her. “Who deserved what?”

“Kaien,” Rukia mumbled sulkily, scuffing her toe on the ground. “I made him swallow a gobstone.”

“Shiba?” Professor Shihōin said incredulously.

Rukia nodded, still unable to meet her teacher’s gaze. How was she going to explain her expulsion to her sister? She didn’t think she could. She may as well take up Kaien’s tactic and dig her own grave.

Suddenly the head of Slytherin house roared with laughter. “I like you, kid. But’s that not what I was asking.” Rukia’s cheeks flooded with colour as she realised her mistake. “How did you get a broom?”

“I… Umm…” She really didn’t know how to answer that.

“Look, no student gets on a broom in their first lesson. Ever. I want to know how _you_ did.”

Ah. “I, err… didn’t skip leg day?”

Shihōin nodded slowly, weighting her words carefully, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She looked incredibly serious. “Hmm… How did you fancy joining the quidditch team?”

Rukia’s face lit up. “What? Really?!”

Shihōin shuffled so that her left leg was hanging over the edge of the desk. “I mean, you’ll have to go through the try-outs with the others, but we need a Seeker. A good one. Someone that’ll shut Unohana up once and for all.”

Rukia bit her lip. Try-outs? Like an audition? With an audience?

“Oi,” Professor Shihōin said sternly, “Now’s not the time for self-doubt. Even if you absolute bomb it… well, let’s just say Kuchiki’s the one you need to convince.” A wicked gleam shone in her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Surely she didn’t mean…? Oh. _Ohhh_. Rukia grinned.

“That’s what I thought.” She ruffled the youngster’s hair and gestured to the door. “Off with you.”

Rukia had to force herself to walk and not skip.

“Wait!” Rukia turned back to see her teacher looking at something behind her desk. “Do you want a rabbit?” She lifted the big lop up and plonked it on her desk. She hadn’t thought Rukia’s eyes or smile could get any bigger.

She was wrong.


	8. Spirits are ALWAYS with You

When Kuchiki Byakuya signed up for Divination classes, he did so with no real interest in the subject. It was more to prove a point. To whom it was uncertain, but he really hoped they appreciated it.

Because.

This.

Was.

Hell.

Just to be clear: Headmaster Yamamoto really had some answering to do when it came to the people he employed. Whilst there was brilliance to be found in the teaching staff, with the likes of Professors Ukitake, Unohana, Ushōda, and Sasakibe, there were also some highly questionable figures.

Professor Kyōraku _could_ be brilliant. If only he stopped sharing his saké with his students. _During lessons_. (His argument being that, as a muggle beverage, it didn’t really count as alcohol.)

Sure, if you wanted a teacher who kept trying to sell you any number of random health supplements and miracle ‘cures’ (usually several years out of date), then Professor Tsukabishi was an excellent role model.

Komamura was a lycanthropic half-giant. Admittedly, he hadn’t harmed anyone, but the _fur_. The fur got _everywhere_.

Professor Ochi was nice enough, but make no mistake. Anyone who thought Muggle Studies was anything other than an excuse for her to subject her students to ~~classic~~ her favourite muggle movies (all of which were terrible and highly unsuitable for an educational establishment) was an idiot.

Then there was that absolute _shrew_ of a woman, Shihōin Yoruichi. She’d played for the _Holyhead Harpies_ , of all teams. That should have instantly removed her as a teaching candidate.

Her partner-in-crime, Urahara, was no better. He wore _geta_. In the potions lab. He was a walking health and safety disaster.

The less said about Professor Kurotsuchi, the better. Rumour has it that he’s desperate for the Potions position, but has, as yet, failed to ~~poison~~ replace Urahara. He has, however, caused permanent _evidence_ of the time he covered for Potions with a group of now fourth-year Ravenclaws (which, incidentally, includes his own daughter). Akon has never managed to remove the horns. As for Hiyosu, well, no one was quite sure what happened there.

And then…

And then there was _this_ moron.

“BOHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!” Under no circumstances was he _ever_ going to join in with this nonsensical pantomime. It was an absolute farce. The man wasn’t even a wizard. He wasn’t even a squib! He was a muggle charlatan who had somehow managed to trick Yamamoto into employing him. The only thing that could possibly be more demeaning than this was admitting defeat and being a quitter.

The one saving grace to Don Kanonji’s Divination lessons was that there was always a ready supply of tea, although he’d turned even that into a garish nightmare with his own branded chinaware.

Still, as a Kuchiki, it was his duty to uphold family traditions, one of which was obtaining top O.W.L. grades in all twelve subjects. Of course none of his predecessors had to put up with anything as ridiculous as this, but he simply couldn’t afford to lose face because of it.

Byakuya’s thoughts wandered to the future, and he began to daydream of the day he would become the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. The first bill he would pass would effectively have Yamamoto committed to St Mungo’s for evident insanity.

The second would see Kanonji incarcerated for crimes against humanity. And sensibility. And fashion.

He was distracted from his mental meanderings with a sharp prod to the chest from his teacher’s _‘Super Spirit Stick’_.

Great.

He had been chosen.

Byakuya suppressed a sigh and rose from his seat, relocating to the table at the front of the class. He selected a card from towards the bottom of the deck.

Huh.

Fancy that.

_The Fool_.

Reversed, too. So, stupidity? He risked a glance at his teacher. Check. Immature? Check. Financial recklessness? He looked at the gaudy furnishings. Check. In need of new shoes? He spied the hideous red dragonskin boots. _Definitely_.

Wait.

He frowned.

Wasn’t this card supposed to represent…?

Okay. The Fool. Blank slate, crossroads, new beginnings. Endless possibilities. The chance to be whatever he wants to be. Only… it’s reversed.

He braced himself. May as well get it over with. “I am represented by The Fool, and as such find myself at the start of my journey. The card, however, is reversed and so I should be aware of being taken advantage of.”

“Gooood, good,” Kanonji was well into his ‘psychic medium’ act, with his low, whispery voice. He was sat on the opposite side of the table, but he was leant so far across their noses were almost touching. Byakuya tried to discreetly back away. “What challenges you?”

Byakuya pulled a card, still in the lower half of the deck, but higher than the last. _The Heirophant_.

“Tradition. Social conformity. Established institutions.” _The trappings of nobility_.

Kanonji nodded knowingly, “Yes… Yes. And your foundations?”

_Death_. _Reversed_. “I…” Byakuya flickered his gaze to the ghost hovering over his teacher’s shoulder. The ghost that the world famous psychic medium _couldn’t even see_.

She cackled with glee, as she always did whenever some omen of doom could be found. Cassandra Siebel was worse than Moaning Myrtle, with her apocalyptic prophecies.

Kanonji gasped dramatically, as he leapt to his feet. “This! This smells like bad spirits!”

Byakuya fought the urge to roll his eyes. No, that was the choking fog of incense that constantly burned in the already stuffy room.

Brandishing his stupid _‘Super Spirit Stick’_ , Kanonji declared that he needed to perform an immediate exorcism. Byakuya really wished that other class members wouldn’t spur him on with their cheers.

“No,” Byakuya forced through gritted teeth, “No, this just means a fear of change.”

“No?!” Kanonji made a good show of appearing shocked with disbelief, before turning to the rest of the class. “See this? This is the _bad spirit_ talking! Trying to stop us from ousting it! Wouldn’t you agree?”

The class burst into enthusiastic whoops and hollers.

Resigned, Byakuya looked to the clock.

Oh, great.

Only another hour and a half to go.


	9. The Battle of the Gurgs

It would come as no surprise that Shiba Kaien was not enjoying his History of Magic class. Not only was it the first thing on his Monday schedule, and not only was it the most mind-numbingly dull two hours a person could spend listening to an equally boring Professor Sasakibe droning on about giant wars (which, really, should be epic, but the man was so soporific that they could have been in the middle of a live battle of the Gurgs and he’d still send his class to sleep), but Kaien was still very much suffering from this morning’s disastrous attempt at reconciliation.

Thankfully, the hiccups had passed and his skin was back to normal, but the girls were very much ganging up on him, and his own housemates _were not helping_. In fact, Ikkaku seemed positively delighted in pointing out (repeatedly) that he was beaten up by an eleven year old girl. Just wait until _he_ upset the little snot.

Why were girls so difficult? They say they appreciate honesty, so you tell them how you feel and then they get all uppity about it! Kaien sniffed petulantly. He honestly didn’t know how Kuchiki coped.

Well, he did. By being a total arse to everybody.

Still, the point remained. This unrequited business was _hard work_. It was _tiring_. And he couldn’t just pull a Kuchiki and try to ignore all of these feelings bubbling up inside. What was the point in having them if you can’t express them?

His eyes wandered to where she was diligently scribbling notes. These Ravenclaws. Look at them. _Doing work_. What was wrong with them?

He sighed.

He could hear Madarame start sniggering to the side of him.

He tried to focus on his own notes. _The war of the Zugspitze Gurgs started when a young Hurgalog drunkenly mistook his twin brother’s betrothed for his pet Graphorn, and tried to mount her for the return journey to the other side of the mountain. Horgalug was so incensed by the slight, he attempted to rally a local tribe of Erklings into…_

A slight movement from ahead caught his eye. Miyako was twirling a strand of hair just below her ear and was coyly looking back at… Kajōmaru Hidetomo. Oh, come on!

THEY WERE PASSING NOTES TO ONE ANOTHER.

She wasn’t working _at all_.

Just who did he think he was? Sat there looking all smart and respectable, when really he was just a… just a… a thief! Stealing other peoples’ not-yet-girlfriends.

There was a soft snap, as Kaien’s quill broke into two. She was _blushing_. And biting her lower lip! And Kajōmaru, the bespectacled git, was just smiling serenely back at her. Like he didn’t know.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson, Kaien left without saying a word. He had a sneaking suspicion that if he did, he would end up snapping more than his quill in half.


End file.
